ghost stories

I was having dinner with the fam-jam (that’s a thing) a few weeks ago, when I found a book I wrote (“wrote”) in grade four sitting in the corner of the dining room. My mom has been cleaning out the house and had come across it in some closet or other. The book was less of a book and more of a storyboard where we’d been instructed to describe a setting, some characters, how they related to each other, and a basic storyline.

My book took place on a deserted island. The main character was a ghost. She had died of a disease, and her mother had died of grief.

What a creepy, creepy child.

After finding that gem, we started talking about my imaginary friend(s) that I had between the ages of 3 and 5. Apparently I had more than one, but the main one was Davol. Very similarly pronounced to Devil.

No big deal.

It seems he came absolutely everywhere with me. My mom’s best friend’s daughter, who would have been 14 or so at the time, still remembers him. He showed up a day after we did when my mom and I went on vacation. I cried once because my Oma sat on him in the car. The thought crossed their minds that he was some sort of ghost I could actually see. That would be ironic, because I’m absolutely terrified of ghosts. The scariest movie I’ve seen to date is White Noise. Which is kind of funny if you’ve seen it, because I’m totally aware it’s one of the worst movies ever made, but I was 16 and I had nightmares of red outlines of men for 3 years after that.

I wish that were a joke.

In elementary school, we went through a phase where all the grade 7 girls were obsessed with Ouija boards. We didn’t have a real one, so we drew the alphabet on the back of a cereal box and used a pencil sharpener as the planchette. Someone was obviously cheating as the pencil sharpener would be pushed quickly and firmly across the board to whatever the “spirit” wanted to tell us. One time, as about ten girls were hiding in the girls’ change room to play (we weren’t technically allowed to stay inside at recess), my best friend and I snuck around onto the gym stage where there was a third and rarely used entrance to the change room. When they asked for a sign, we threw a chair against the door. To this day I don’t know if they know it wasn’t a real spirit trying to communicate with them.

Later that year, curious if Ouija boards could be real (without the likes of myself interfering), a friend and I tried the real board without – as far as I know – cheating. The way the wooden piece slowly quivered across the board was truly creepy. A large part of me wants to try using a Ouija board again today, by myself, to see what happens, but I’m just too scared. Maybe if someone sat in the corner of the room to keep an eye on me and my well-being (and vouch for any goings-on) while I used the board…

two cups vanilla almond milk
one tablespoon cornstarch
one tablespoon apple cider vinegar
two cups flour
two tablespoons sugar
one tablespoon baking powder
one teaspoon salt
scant one third cup water
two and a half tablespoons canola oil
one teaspoon pure vanilla extract

Directions

Whisk together cornstarch, apple cider vinegar and almond milk. Set aside.
In a large bowl, sift together dry ingredients. Make a well in the centre. Add in milk mixture and remaining wet ingredients. Whisk together until well mixed – a few lumps are okay.
Set aside for at least ten minutes to rest. Preheat a waffle iron.
Spoon into the waffle iron and cook until the waffles are golden brown. Serve immediately with whipped cream and maple syrup.